The Fell Clutch Of Circumstance
by joliechose151
Summary: Hope has been dreaming of a girl with the mysterious power to revive his friends from their crystal slumber. But the world hangs in a balance, and the revival of an ancient power sets the stage to bring about the demise of the human race. HopexOC
1. Dreams To Dream

_**Standard, Cookie-Cutter Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the plot or any of the characters from Final Fantasy XIII. The only thing that one could say I technically own the rights to is my original character, whose name will be revealed later on.**_

**Okaaaaay!**

**So, this is my very first fanfiction in a very long time. My last one was a Harry Potter story that I wrote for another fanfiction website when I was 14. Complete and total disaster, blatant 'insert yourself into the fandom with a horrendous Mary Sue' storyline, and you can take my word for it. Luckily, that website went under awhile back, and with it any proof of that abomination of literature. **

**So...with that lovely, self-depricating introduction, I welcome you to my second-and hopefully infinitely better-attempt at fanfiction. The rough plot for this story came to me randomly almost seven months ago, and since then I've been trying to piece together the random ideas that have been floating around in my head ever since. I'm definitely glad that I went through this process, otherwise I think I would have tried to accomplish too many subplots into the story and everything would have melded together into one hot mess. If you didn't pick up from the description, this is a HopexOC story, set after the events of FFXIII.**

**Please feel free to provide any sort of constructive criticism that you deem appropriate. I actively want to hone my writing skills, so I am open to any opportunity for improvement.  
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**Without further ado, I present to you the very first chapter of 'The Fell Clutch of Circumstance'.  
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**_Chapter 1- Dreams To Dream_**

Hope was running.

Though he was not consciously aware as to where he was going, his feet—fueled by instinct—seemed to know exactly which direction to take him.

The wind was blowing strongly against his face, whipping his silver hair back and away from him in a streamline fashion. His eyes were squinted against the wind's ferocity.

He knew that, in all good judgment, he should stop to rest; that his heart was pumping battery acid into his lungs and his legs were deteriorating into jelly. He needed to rest before his body succumbed to fatigue and he collapsed onto the soft earth beneath his feet.

His body, however, seemed to have a mind of its own. He needed to get to his destination, and he needed to get there fast. There was little time to waste.

That was when he heard her voice, soft in his ear.

"Find me, Hope."

Her words, like always, were filled with a type of ethereal urgency. The muscles in his lower body suddenly began to work twice as hard. They picked up their speed, pushing him faster forward towards his destination…towards_ her_.

He looked ahead into the distance and saw several high, earthen spires in a familiar location. The same instinct driving him forward was telling him that his final destination was among those spires. That _she_ would be among them. With the last of his energy he sped forward, determined to find the source of the voice.

Suddenly, everything changed. Hope couldn't feel the fatigue in his legs and chest anymore. In fact, he couldn't feel his body at all. He had projected out from his physical being and up to the top and edge of one of the spires, where a lone female stood.

Instantly, Hope began to study her features. The girl looked to be about his age, and was wearing a long, white dress that fell down to her ankles. The fabric of her dress and her long hair, the color of cherry wood, flowed behind her against the strong winds. Her hands were clasped tightly together, as if in prayer. Though her eyes were closed, he could tell by her furrowed brow and pursed lips that she was pained; locked in a private battle within herself and away from the world.

His vision expanded to the settings around. The spire was seated right next to the slowly deteriorating remains of Cocoon. The massive, fallen structure remained encased and intertwined with shining, crystal stalks created by the two individuals who sacrificed their existence to protect the millions of lives within its shell. A sharp pain of reminiscence flowed through Hope's currently non-existent heart as he thought back to those two warriors who had saved them all.

"I can save them," the voice called to him.

He was looking at the girl again, who had opened her eyes to reveal shocking irises the color of shining silver. With a look of determination, she unclasped her hands and reached her right one out and towards the tip of one of the crystal stalks. Once her fingertips touched its smooth surface, a glow began to radiate from her fingers. Hope looked up into her eyes, or at least where they should have been, and saw nothing but two bright, silver lights. The glow from her fingers began to spread down the spiraling structure, encasing it in a bright, unearthly light.

The vision shifted. Hope was deep within the central structure of the crystal shape. He could make out the hardened, lucid silhouettes of the two former l'Cie to whom he had grown so close. Their bodies also began to glow brightly as they became encased within the light. He watched in awe as their skin slowly began to revert from its current, crystalline color back to the familiar peach hue. The skin color of a living, breathing human being.

The voice called to him once more.

"Find me, Hope, and I can save them"

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Hope gasped and shot up as he violently awoke from the dream. He clutched a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat race beneath his fingers. Instantly on high alert, he observed his surroundings and his condition.

He gave a long, exasperated sigh when he realized he was alone in his room; moonlight shining through his bedroom window. He turned to his bedside table at his clock, where the time 2:03 AM blazed from its face in angry, red letters. Hope buried his face in his hands let his body fall back against the bed, his head slamming into his sweat-soaked pillow as he let out a groan.

The night's events weren't surprising as they were maddening: After all, it was the same dream that had plagued him for the last six months.

Removing his hands from his face, Hope stared at the ceiling as he reflected, as he always did, upon what he had just witnessed. He was determined to take notice to new clues, new meanings as to why this dream came to him every night. Even more, he was desperate to know more about the woman.

Who was she? Did she truly exist, or was she merely a figment of Hope's imagination? Was she a simple manifestation of a multiple-year-long quest to free his dear friends from their slumbering stasis?

Seriously, no human soul on Gran Pulse had the power to overpower l'Cie crystal and re-awaken its inhabitants with a simple touch…right?

Abandoning any hope of a good night's sleep, Hope sat upright again and pushed the covers off the remainder of his body. He swung his legs over the bed's edge and stood up. Giving his neck a violent crack, he walked out of his room and tiptoed towards the hallway bathroom. Snow and Serah had been nice enough to allow him to reside as a guest in their house during the weeks before his initiation training for the New Bodum sector of the Guardian Corps. He gave a grimace as he reflected to how his recurring dreams and the state in which it left him was probably putting strain on his welcome. He was quite sure his bumbling around in the halls each night had woken up his two hosts several times over. Not good, especially with Serah being six months pregnant with her and Snow's first child.

Hope grasped the cool steel of the door handle to the bathroom and turned it to let himself in. After feeling around the wall for a few minutes, he flipped on the light switch before clutching the sides of the porcelain sink and allowing his body to slump forward. Worn out with mental exhaustion, he lazily lifted his head to gaze into the mirror. The image of his reflection resonated with the exhaustion that consumed his body. His hair was matted in patches to his face from the cold sweat in which he awoke. The skin below his eyes was beginning to darken with a purple hue of fatigue, while the rest of his face looked ghastly pale. Turning the sink's cold water faucet, Hope cupped his hands and splashed his face with the cool liquid. It provided some soothing comfort, but—as always—it was never enough. His body was just as tired and his mind was reeling just as much as it was before.

Hope rested his back against a wall as he let his thoughts reflect back to the girl. He was desperate to know something more about her. He sighed loudly with aggravation when he thought to how he didn't even know her name. He waited for something to come to him, as if his unconscious would magically generate the name of this mystery woman…but nothing came to him. Overcome with frustrated rage, his balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against the flat surface of the wall behind him. Through his weariness, he felt his body slide down the wall until he was seated on the cool, tile floor. He closed his eyes and thumped his head against the wall.

"Who _are_ you?" he whispered out to no one.

Hope's eyes shot open when he heard a knock coming from the door.

'_Nice one, Estheim. Waking up the whole house with your horrible sleeping habits. Real nice..._' He thought to himself as he felt his face heat with embarrassment.

"Yeah?" he called out, inwardly kicking himself for not keeping quiet.

Slowly, the door creaked open and Hope watched as a familiar blond head of hair peaked through the opening and he found himself looking at the concerned face of his good friend and former l'Cie companion, Snow Villiers.

"Hey, kid." Snow said quietly, with Hope internally scowled at the address. He hated being called a kid. He was 19 years old now, for Eden's sake. Plus, his part in—oh, he didn't know—saving the inhabitants of Cocoon had mentally aged him drastically. He went through more trials at 14 than many grown men did throughout their entire lifetime.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" Hope asked, and immediately chastised himself mentally for asking such a stupid question. '_Oh, of course not_' he thought sarcastically, '_he just happened to be awake at two in the morning and decided that it was an appropriate time for a friendly chat in the hallway bathroom_.'

Snow shrugged dismissively. "It's alright. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that nothing was bothering you. I've heard you up and walking around this early for several nights, now."

Hope clenched his eyes shut in embarrassment and let his head fall on his knees for a few moments for looking up at Snow apologetically.

"I'm really sorry. I've been having a hard time sleeping. I didn't wake Serah, did I?"

Snow shook his head and smiled "No, and don't worry. Serah has always slept like a rock, even with the pregnancy. I don't think anything short of an explosion would wake her up before sunrise."

Hope sighed in relief. Last thing he wanted was to be the source of added stress on Serah and her unborn child.

Snow extended his hand to help Hope up to his feet, which Hope gladly accepted. Once standing, he shook out his head and ran a hand through his silver hair, which he wore shortly cropped above his ears since last year when he turned 18 at the advice of Serah.

"New adult, new look!" she had said to him as she excitedly dragged him into a chair at the local barber shop. The haircut definitely made him look older, he admitted. Not to mention, at the notice of an extremely smug Serah, it helped him catch the eye of many of the local girls in town. It didn't hurt that he also experienced a phenomenal growth spurt in the years after his quest as a l'Cie, finally rounding off when he reached a height of six feet and four inches. Hope was, apparently, "absolutely _delicious_," as he had overheard one giggling admirer describe him to her friends. He inwardly gave a rueful smile. The last thing he wanted to plague his mind were thoughts of another girl. This "dream girl" was enough to keep him at bay for the next five lifetimes.

The sound of Snow's voice snapped Hope from his inner reflections.

"Sorry, what?" he asked.

Snow frowned. "I was just making sure you were okay. It looks like something's been bothering you. I've noticed you staring off like that at random times ever since you got here a few weeks ago."

"No, I'm alright" Hope lied smoothly. "I've just been thinking about my upcoming initiation. Lightning's been wearing me out with all the combat training she's putting me through."

Snow grinned and slapped Hope on the back, causing the younger man to wince at the force behind the blow. "I still can't believe that you're joining the Corps and becoming a soldier. I mean, it should have sunk in at this point. Sis hasn't stopped talking and lecturing about it since you told us three months ago."

Hope smiled as his thoughts drifted to his dear friend and mentor, Lightning Farron. She was positively thrilled, a rarity for her to display such emotion, when Hope had told her his plans to enlist in the Guardian Corps. Lightning had quickly been reinstated into the Corps following the completion of the l'Cies' focus, and even earned herself a promotion to Lieutenant within the year and to Commander only recently. Since then, Lightning had talked to him almost every day, with everything from a brand new piece of advice for excelling in basic training to informing him of various strings she was attempting to pull with the higher-ups for such luxuries as better housing and setting up informal meetings with Hope and important Corps officials.

Hope looked down at the floor and shrugged. "Yeah, well, her enthusiasm makes up for my dad's lack of it, I guess. He's still hoping that I'll decide to take a job in the government, instead."

"Hey, now." Snow said, noticing his friend's apprehension. "Your dad supports you and whatever you decide to do with your life. I think he's just going to miss having you close, what with him being the governor of District 4."

Hope nodded. In the past 5 years since the Cocoon's plummet from the sky (often referred to as simply "The Fall"), its inhabitants have been constructing new settlements and forming new colonies. The mandatory evacuation of Cocoon took place roughly 3 years ago, when officials deemed the once majestic and floating world to be structurally unsound. After all, no one knew when the "saviors of Cocoon" would awaken from their crystal slumber and, thus, send the orb crashing to the ground with the dissipation of its crystal stronghold. By then, government officials had built enough structures to house the remaining civilians and, in some rare cases and showings of engineering and physics mastery, managed to uplift several structures from inside Cocoon from their foundation and have them airlifted and situated in various settlements. New Eden, the quickly-established capital of the new settlements, resided in District 4, in the region Fang and Vanille had once informed him was, long ago, called the Archylte Steppe. Serah, Snow, and Lightning all resided within District 6, which encompassed the lush lands of Yaschas Massif and the ruins of the once-majestic city of Paddra. Its stone structures made the hollow remnants a perfect location for PSICOM to construct well-encased, fortified military base. The Guardian Corps had also built their headquarters nearby, which helped the sector to become known as the "The Warrior District."

Thinking back to the two native Pulsians immediately brought his thoughts back to the woman from his dreams. He sighed, knowing that she would indubitably be plaguing his thoughts for the remainder of the night.

Hope forced himself to smile as he brought his attention back to Snow. "Well, I should probably try and get back to sleep. I'm sorry, again, for waking you," he said.

"It's cool. I'll see you in the morning, kid."

Hope immediately frowned at once again being addressed as "kid", but shook it off as he strode past Snow and back to his room. Once there, he shut the door behind him before letting his body collapse onto the bed. Turning onto his back, he once again found himself staring at the ceiling as he thought back to the "dream woman," with her silver eyes and russet-toned hair.

Something in his gut told him that this girl wasn't just some incarnation of his imagination; that she was real and was somewhere amongst the vast expanse of their new home on Gran Pulse. He swore to himself that he would find her, to discover if she truly was as remarkable of a being as she was manifested in his dreams.

If she had the power be the savior of those who had saved Cocoon.


	2. I Think I Dreamed You Into Life

_****__I_ don't own the rights to the plot or any of the characters from Final Fantasy XIII. The only thing that one could say I technically own the rights to is my original character, whose name currently remains a mystery.

**Ohhhhh, this is a slightly long chapter. I hope that my readers won't be completely turned off by its length. I thought about splitting it into two chapters, but I couldn't find any particular point where I felt comfortable splitting it. So, what you have is a very long second chapter. I hope you enjoy. I hope to update this story once a week. I'll also make corrections to previous chapters during that time as well so I don't get people's hopes up in thinking there's a new chapter when, in reality, I just changed a few words here and there.  
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**This chapter is full of allusions to previous FF games. This will be a repeating motif throughout the story. Feel free to play the game of "spot the references" if you wish. It's also important to note that I have NO military experience, so forgive me if I make a few technical errors when talking about the Corps. Tips and corrections are very much appreciated.  
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**Thank you to those who reviewed. I have subscribers! Oh man, crazy stuff! **

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_**Chapter 2 - I Think I Dreamed You Into Life**_

The sunlight glowed faintly in between the panels of the Venetian blinds, a sign that morning had come. The muted glimmer, however, had become bright enough to rouse Hope from his state of light slumber. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times in order to bring his sight into focus. With equal sluggishness, he sat up and yawned before slowly bringing himself to his feet. From downstairs, he heard the muffled sounds of Snow's booming laughter. He looked over at his clock and saw that it was past 9:00am, which meant that breakfast had probably been served at least 45 minutes earlier.

It was a rarity for him to fall back asleep after his dreams awoke him, let alone to sleep this late. He said a silent thank you to his two hosts downstairs for not waking him up to join them for the morning meal. Giving one large yawn and running a hand through his messy hair, he made for the door and began the walk towards the kitchen.

Hope groaned in protest when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was greeted with beams of blaring sunlight from all of the surrounding windows. He roughly squinted his eyes to protect them against this solar invasion and continued onward with a lethargic air to his gait. Finally, he rounded the familiar corner and made his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Hope!" Serah chirped from her seat, her hands clasped around a colorful mug. Hope gave a nod her way and walked toward one of the remaining seats at the kitchen table. Snow grinned at the teen and slapped his back affectionately. As he had in the early hours of the morning, Hope found himself biting back a wince at the force of his blow. A raw, prickling sensation began to tingle across his skin, and Hope began to envision the large, red handprint that was undoubtedly beginning to appear beneath his sleep shirt.

"Morning," he mumbled languidly, his voice deep and hoarse from fatigue and lack of use during the night hours. Serah popped up from her seat with a bubbly spring in her step and made her way to the fridge. Humming an unfamiliar cheery tune, she pulled out a plate of food covered in plastic wrapping and popped it into the microwave.

"Ahh…you didn't have to do that for me, Serah," Hope protested, feeling extremely guilty that a very pregnant woman was going on and catering him like she was. "I mean, you already prepared everything…the least I could have done was reheat it."

Serah waved a hand dismissively as she operated the microwave and began to reheat Hope's breakfast.

"It's no trouble at all," she replied over her shoulder as the machine came to life with a push of a button. She followed up her preparation of his meal by fetching a glass from one of the kitchen's many cupboards and filling it with fruit juice from a pitcher on the counter.

"Still, Serah," Snow cut in, looking over at his wife "Dr. Pollendina said you shouldn't be overexerting yourself. You've been placed on bed rest, remember? You know, the reason why you had to go on an extended maternity leave from the hospital? Maybe the phrase 'avoid nonessential activities' rings a bell?"

Serah had gone to school and became a registered nurse in the years following The Fall. In an attempt to be closer to her sister, she took a job at the Guardian Corps' Medical Facility (with the help of a raving review from Lightning on Serah's behalf). There, she exercised her natural drive to nurture and care for others through her treatment of wounded soldiers, commonly admitted with injuries related to the ever-present dangers of Pulse's untamed wilderness.

Serah placed the pitcher back onto the counter and whirled around to face Snow, her eyes slightly narrowed. Despite her attempts to be defiant and stern, Hope could see the coy smile playing at her lips.

"Ohh, I'll be fine," she huffed in assertion. At that moment, a shrill beep rang from the microwave, alerting those in the room that Hope's breakfast was ready. Hope stood up from his chair to retrieve his meal, but Serah had already pranced her way to the microwave before he even had time to take a single step. Removing the plastic wrapping, she hummed the same, happy tune as she brought over Hope's breakfast and glass of juice. Hope gave a low sigh of defeat before sitting back down in his chair, Snow reflecting his current predicament with a look of exasperated amusement. Hope's guilt was, however, soon forgotten. The delicious mixture of smells coming from the eggs, sausage slices, and fried potatoes made Hope's mouth water, and he suddenly realize how incredibly hungry he was. Picking up the lone fork remaining on the table, he began to scarf down his food with a minimal regard for propriety.

Hope faintly heard the front door creek open and shut noisily a few moments later. He knew it as a signal that Lightning had decided to stop by. After all, as Serah's older sister and Snow's sister-in-law (though the reinstated soldier loathed to admit the latter), Lightning was the only person who could claim to have such free reign in the Farron-Villiers house: having the privilege to come and go as she pleased.

The kitchen door swung open on its hinges, and Hope's theory was proven to be true as the stoic, pink-haired Commander strode into the room.

"Morning, sis!" Snow greeted warmly. Lightning simply looked at him with a coldly blank expression, causing Hope to snort into his glass of fruit juice. That action sprayed some of the liquid up into his nose, causing him to grimace as he reached for a napkin. Snow smirked at Hope's small interaction with the undeniable forces of karma before looking back at Lightning. By that time, Serah had made her way over to her sister to give her a warm hug.

"Claire!" she crooned happily, "I'm so glad you're here! Would you like something to eat? I have some leftover food from breakfast that I could pop in the microwave for you."

Lightning allowed her back to fall swiftly against the nearby wall, her arms crossed purposefully across her chest. She gave her younger sister a pointed look.

"Serah, I am perfectly capable of doing all of that myself. You, on the other hand, should listen to what the doctor told you to do and stop fussing around like this," she stated in an authoritative manner. Serah frowned slightly, but gave Lighting the same dismissing wave of her hand that she had shown Hope earlier.

"Just because I'm carrying a few extra pounds of baby with me does _not_ make me some sort of useless creature. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Claire."

Lightning sighed. Her annoyance regarding the repetitive nature of this argument with her and the younger Farron displayed evidently across her face.

"I'm not against _you_ doing things for yourself. Snow, on the other hand, could do well to get off his lazy-"

"Hey!" Snow protested from his seat at the table. Lightning made no attempt to respond to his indignation and continued to look at Serah. The younger woman's expression shifted to one of mild irritation, something that—even in such a muted form—was a rarity for the ever-smiling and jovial Serah.

"Ohh, hush Claire. Snow already does so much for me," Serah replied, looking over at her husband with a sickeningly sweet look of adoration. He smiled lovingly back at her as she made her way over to him.

"Tch" Lightning scoffed while Serah strode over to Snow before leaning down and giving her husband a chaste kiss. Hope cracked a small smile at the loving interaction. Snow may be as dense as they come, but anyone could clearly tell how much he adored and cherished his wife, and Serah vice-versa.

Lightning chose to ignore her sister's affections with her husband and to focus her attention elsewhere, namely Hope. She strode with purpose towards the remaining empty seat, catching his attention and locking her stern gaze with his slightly bewildered one.

"Hope, I've arranged for you to have a meeting with Sergeant Lucil next week. He's been assigned to be the squad leader for you and the rest of the incoming troops," she explained. Hope gave a dramatic sigh lightly laced with exasperation but mostly reflective of his amusement.

"Light, I'm pretty sure that I've been introduced to, had lunch with, or had a private meeting with just about everyone in the Guardian Corps by this point. I even know the janitor's name who works at headquarters…heck, I know the name of his _kids_ now!" Hope replied with cheeky grin. Lighting sat up straight, slight indignation ringing in her gaze.

"You know, if you don't appreciate my help-" she began, but Hope held up his hands in defeat and an attempt to placate her ire.

"It's not that, Light," he replied calmly, muting his grin into a slight smirk. "I appreciate everything that you're trying to do for me. I really do, honestly! But, I feel like I'm already head and shoulders above all of the other new recruits. I mean, with your helping me with combat training, taking me on a tour of the soldiers' quarters, and drilling me on every aspect of the Guardian Corp's chain of command…I think I'm more prepared than I have been for anything in my life."

"Not to mention," Snow interjected, his hands placed on top of Serah's arms, which were currently wrapped around his shoulders, "he doesn't want to be thought of as a brown-noser by the rest of his squad. There's no easier way to earn their distrust and annoyance than to come off as a suck-up." Hope bit the inside of his cheek, thankful that Snow could voice the concern that he was far too bashful to bring up, especially with Light. The Commander in question gave the tall blond a quick but silencing glare before turning back to the silver-haired teen.

"In the Corps, it's all about who you know. You want people to pay attention to you, Hope: notice your strong points; see what you're capable of. It's the quickest way to a promotion and working your way up in the ranks. You have exactly seven weeks until boot camp, and so you should be using this time strategically. Put yourself ahead of the pack." Hope blinked slowly and looked down at his empty plate for a moment. Realizing that resistance was utterly futile, he looked back up at her and gave a genuine grin.

"Alright, Light. I trust you." Lightning gave him a warm smile, a phenomenal action reserved for only Hope and Serah. It caused his heart to swell up with pride, as it always did whenever Lightning showed the teen any sign of affection. Hope had looked up to her since their journey as l'Cie. Back then he was a terrified child. Having just lost his mother, he took solace in an all-consuming rage and the burning hunger for revenge-finding them to be the only motivator that kept him from completely giving up and embracing defeat. She taught him how to be strong; how to fight and protect those he cared for. Within the black void of their seemingly damned fate, she gave him a purpose, a goal for which to strive. Five years later, Hope still held Lighting Farron in the highest position of reverence, crediting her more than himself with the personal transformation he underwent during their journey.

Hope was brought out of his nostalgic thoughts with a small whine coming from the fridge. He looked over and saw Serah animatedly scouring through its contents. Giving another disheartened cry, she gave up her futile search and slowly closed the door.

"Something the matter?" Hope inquired. Serah bit her lip, excruciating disappointment shining in her features.

"We're out of gysahl pickles," she whispered dejectedly, slumping gingerly against the fridge door. From the table, Snow choked on the sip of tea he had attempted to sneak from his wife's cup. He stared at Serah with wide eyes.

"What? Serah, I just bought you two huge jars of them last week!" Snow exclaimed as he placed the mug back on the table. Serah's cheeks flared with a pink blush while she continued to gaze feebly at the floor. Since the early weeks after discovering that she was pregnant, Serah suffered from undeniable cravings for gysahl pickles. The pickles were a delicacy created with the vast selections of wild vegetables and spices Pulse had to offer its new inhabitants. Apparently, even Snow could still be surprised at the magnitude of his young wife's appetite for the dish.

Snow sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I'd go to the market and buy some more right now, but it'll have to wait until this evening. I've got stuff to do with NORA in an hour. We're starting the process of clearing out fiends from a potential new settlement area west of District 8." After the fall of Cocoon, Snow and the other members of NORA put their organization for good use, mainly focusing on attempting to ease the transition of the populace's relocation to Pulse. Their assistance in helping to eradicate fiend populations during the Guardian Corp's and PSICOM's (or Pul-PSI, as many citizens had come to call the updated organization since their forced migration) initial reorganization efforts proved invaluable. Lightning still refused to acknowledge the value of Snow's "little group" and their accomplishment, and instantly rolled her eyes at his declaration.

Meanwhile, Serah let out a crestfallen sigh, appearing to admit defeat. However, a quick flash of resolution glimmered in her eyes. Welling her eyes with desperation, she slowly raised her eyes and looked to Hope.

"Hope…" she whispered, her lower lip slightly pouted, "Hope...would you...maybe? I-I…_avoid nonessential activities_…"

'_Aww, man_, now _she remembers her doctor's orders,_' Hope groaned to himself, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall sharply forward. Lightning considered the teen for a moment before giving her sister a reproachful glance.

"Oh, Serah. Stop with the theatrics. You know good and well that Hope is far too sweet to ever say no to anything you ask," she clipped. Hope slightly bristled with resentment at the implication of her words; was he really that much of a doormat when it came to the Farrons? But then again, when he really thought about it, Serah could ask him to single-handedly slay a Wyvern while blindfolded…and he'd at least consider attempting to follow through with her request.

Exaggerated hypothetical situations aside, Hope looked up at Serah and gave her a kind smile.

"Yes, I'll go to the market for you and get you some pickles," he conceded. Serah squealed with delight and bounced over to him, wrapping her arms around the teen and pulling him in for one of her soft, dainty hugs. Snow laughed heartily at her enthusiasm from across the table

"Ohh! Thankyou-thankyou-THANKYOU!" she cried, nuzzling her cheek affectionately against the crown of his head. Hope chuckled in amusement, playfully pushing her away from him.

"Alright, alright. Okay, okay. I'll just get dressed and head on out," he laughed, getting up from his chair, picking up his dirty dishes with the intent of washing them in the sink. Serah quickly snatched the dishes out of his hands, proceeding to shoo him towards the door. Giving Serah one last grin and a roll of his eyes, Hope turned on his heel to go and change.

"I'll go with you," Lightning declared suddenly the moment he placed his hand on the kitchen door. "I need some things for myself as well."

Hope nodded, pushing the door open and walking out of the room. Leaping up two stairs at a time, Hope walked briskly to his room and shut the door behind him. He made his way over to the dresser and picked out a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans. Quickly discarding his sleep clothes and dressing himself in his day attire, he walked over to the closet to complete the outfit. He promptly picked the black boots Lightning had given to him for his 19th birthday and the grey motorcycle jacket Sazh had bought him for that very same occasion.

When he was finally dressed and ready to go, he walked out of his room and towards the stairs. There, he found Lightning waiting at the front door near the base of the steps. Hope gave her a sheepish smile, silently apologizing for making her wait. Not wanting to delay her any further, he proceeded to slide down the stairs' banister and used the remaining momentum to stride quickly over. Lightning scoffed, obviously not amused at his reckless antics, but unable to completely mute the faintest twitches of a smile playing at corners of her mouth. Hope's shy smile immediately broke out into a sly grin as he followed her out the door.

Snow and Serah had decided to build their dream house slightly outside the city limits of New Bodum. Though the distance would take roughly 30 minutes to cross on foot, Lighting appeared to have made the silent decision that she preferred to walk the distance rather than use her government-issued velocycle. Hope gave an inward smile of relief. As a passenger on a vehicle designed for a solitary driver, he would be required to wrap his arms around Lightning's waist for support. No matter the now countless times he had been subjected to that scenario, Hope had never been able to completely eradicate the striking blush that would consistently creep across his cheeks from his close proximity to the soldier. Lightning Farron, though reserved and calculating, was a beautiful woman-and Hope wasn't blind.

He recalled the very first time he rode on the back of her velocycle when he was 15 years old. It was quite possible that, at the time, he was still slightly scarred from his experience with Vanille at the Hanging Edge, when he had crash-landed the cycle within the Vestige and nearly killed them both. Lightning had taken a turn a little too sharp for his liking, causing him to panic and grip his hands wildly at her front. One of his straying hands, immediately remembering it to be the left, had grasped slightly north and enclosed itself on one of her breasts. His ears rang for days after she proceeded to box him hard across the side of the face and scream directly into it.

Upon hearing the retelling of the incident later that evening, Snow had laughed so hard that he fell to the ground with tears streaming down his face.

The two walked in comfortable silence, Hope taking the occasional opportunity to kick a pebble across the yet-undeveloped grassland. It wasn't long before he could see the outlines of New Bodum's skyline. Walking further, an array of tables and tents that had been set out for the weekly Farmer's Market also came into focus. Pulse's naturally fertile landscape had driven many individuals to begin growing their own fruits and vegetables. As more and more people attempted to make a profit from their harvests, New Bodum's popular weekend tradition slowly came to realization. Eventually, the market became composed of more than just edible goods; everything from artwork to jewelry were among the market's commodities.

It was among those countless tents that Serah's personal ambrosia, gysahl pickles, could be purchased.

Lightning was a woman of purpose, and so it was no surprise that she made a beeline for the familiar table. Hope, however, chose to take the time to meander through the multitude of stands and observe the various aspects of the market's merchandise. He knew that the soldier would not be happy upon discovering that he had strayed from her side, but he chose to face the potential of her scolding for the opportunity to observe his surroundings.

It would prove to be a decision that would alter the course of his life forever.

Hope gave passing smiles and nods to the individual salespersons attempting to lure him over with their respective goods, only occasionally stopping to peruse the items displayed on the tables before him. He became increasingly disconcerted as people repeatedly bumped into him from all sides, several individuals without so much as a mumbled apology. As much as he loved New Bodum's outdoor market, he detested large crowds. Not so much as Lightning, though, who he knew was loathing every second she spent amongst the mass throng of shoppers.

He made eye contact with a group of three teenage girls, appearing to be around his age, who were glancing at him from two stands over. He had smiled with only the intention of being polite, but his small gesture caused the girls to immediately giggle furiously amongst themselves. He felt a faint blush tinge his cheeks as they repeatedly looked back at him with large grins on their faces. One of the girls was so bold as to give him a small wave of her fingers, attempting to entice him over. Hope lowered his gaze to the floor, overcome with nerves. He walked onward with a brisk pace, attempting to drown out the incessant giggling that made his cheeks burn redder and redder.

He had looked down the street with the intention of locating his pink-haired companion, but something caught his gaze instantly. Hope's body was rendered completely rigid, and the warm blood in his veins instantaneously turned to ice.

"Okay, so I bought three of their largest jars," Lightning was addressing him nonchalantly as she came to his side. He could faintly hear her rummaging through the bags in an examination of her purchase. "If this doesn't last her through the week, then..." Lighting's words had trailed off. A small wave of logic through his otherwise stupefied brain passively deduced that she must have noticed his unabashed stare; his gaping jaw.

His eyes had zeroed in on a girl casually walking alone while observing the various shops and stands. A girl with pale skin, long, red-brown hair and irises with a unique coloring of silver.

"Hope? What is it?" Lightning's voice was laced with a small tinge alarm. In his daze, Hope barely managed to form the only two words that mattered.

"It's her…"

* * *

**Next time on The Fell Clutch of Circumstance:  
**

_"You're following me," she stated as she continued to hold the hunting knife close to his neck. Her silver eyes were unforgiving, silently challenging him to deny her words. Hope swallowed thickly._

_"Y-yes," he stammered. The girl's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and she pursed her lips into a tight line. Her hand gripped the dagger's hilt more tightly.  
_

_"Why?" she drawled. Hope opened and closed his mouth several times. How could he possibly explain to her without sounding like someone who was completely off their damn rocker? Or...without having this scenario end with that menacing blade being lodged into his throat?  
_


	3. What We'll See Will Define Explanation

_****__I_ don't own the rights to the plot or any of the characters from Final Fantasy XIII. The only thing that one could say I technically own the rights to is my original character, whose name currently remains a mystery.

**Okaaaaaaaaay. Wow. _Wow_. I'm really sorry about the excruciating delay in updates. Around the time of my last one, I finally landed myself a job and, combined with school work and social obligations, I found myself to be completely bogged down. In addition, I could NOT find out how to go about writing the fourth chapter...and I thought it to be important to include it in my update since I hinted at it in the previous update. I didn't want to leave my readers without an interaction with the mysterious girl for yet ANOTHER update, but my perfectionism refused to allow me to put anything out that I mentally deemed "second-rate." Maybe I should look into acquiring a beta-reader...though I don't quite know how to go about that.**

**Alright, enough of my ramblings. So, I have two chapters for you all today. Hopefully that will make up for the lack in this story's progress.** **Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 3 - What We'll See Will Define Explanation**

In that moment, Hope could do nothing but stare. His jaw slackened, leaving his lips parted in a comical gape. His whole body tingled with blank shock. His feet felt like lead, cementing him awkwardly to the pavement in the street's center.

" 'Her' who? Hope, what's going on?" Lighting pressed, turning her head back and forth between Hope and down the street, in the hopes that she might zero in on the object of his gaze; this 'her.'

Hope barely registered Lighning's inquiries, only somewhat aware of her hand urgently clasping itself around his arm, trying to bring him out of his daze. No, Hope was far too consumed with the sight before him.

It was _her_, he was absolutely sure of it. Their nightly trysts in his dreams had made absolutely sure that he would never forget any of even the smallest details about her. He had memorized the ivory shade of her skin, the russet hue of her hair; how it transformed in the sunlight and shone the color of cherries. Flashes of her long hair flowing in the wind along with the fabric of her white dress skimmed across his memory. Hope felt he knew the shade of those silver eyes even better than the color of his own.

She continued to look on in his direction, almost right through him. The girl idly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear before running her fingers through the remaining length of her tresses. She appeared to be looking for something as well, her eyes slightly squinted with determination. Could it be possible that she sensed him? Would the Goddess Etro toy with the strings of Fate in such a fashion to bring them together this very day?

The girl suddenly jerked backwards when an elderly woman bumped into her. Looking down at the apologetic lady, the girl gave a soft smile. She shook her head gently as her lips moved with a swift reassurance that she was unharmed.

And that's when it happened.

As the elderly woman passed her by, the mystery girl once again looked up in his direction…but this time, she found his eyes. Shock momentarily crossed her features, no doubt not expecting to see the lone teen staring at her so: his astonished expression giving the impression that she was something of a ghost. For what seemed to be an eternity, both of them simply stood there: steel piercing into celadon.

Suddenly, a crown of pink hair moved into the lower field of his vision shortly before a firm hand yanked the front of his shirt downwards. Instinctively, he looked down at the perpetrator of the action and locked in on the ice blue irises gazing slightly up at him.

"Hope! What is going on?" Lightning demanded, her expression tinged with alarm, a clear message that she would not tolerate his erratic behavior anymore. Hope did not respond, instead jerking his body violently and releasing his shirt from her grasp. His eyes quickly scanned the crowd, only to discover that the mystery girl was no longer there.

Panic set in, and Hope unceremoniously shoved Lightning to the side before dashing forwards into the crowd. He finally spotted the familiar tinge of red hair walking briskly away from him in the opposite direction. Hope increased his pace, repeatedly bumping into various strangers and ignoring any cries of indignation that followed. The only thing that mattered to him in that moment was not letting this girl get away.

However, the cruel mistress Fate had decided to have a cruel laugh at his expense. He crossed paths with a sprinting child, and the two of them instantly toppled over upon impact.

Hope heard the shrill wail of the young boy as his body scraped roughly against the ground. He felt the stinging sensation of fresh wounds ripping across his cheek and hands, His ears picked up the faint sound of shocked gasps from various pedestrians who stopped to watch the events to follow. Hope quickly got to his feet and attempted to find the object of his pursuit once more. To his utter dismay, those red locks and sterling irises was nowhere to be seen.

Utter dejection washed over him; he had found the object of his unrelenting dreams only to lose her again within minutes. Numbness seemingly flowing through his veins, he looked in the direction of the crying child, who had been joined by a frantic woman who was fretting over the boy's injuries. The child's mother, he automatically deduced.

"I-uh…sorry," Hope mumbled lamely through the mental fog, his eyes slightly unfocused. Cradling the boy in her arms, the woman craned her neck upwards to look at him furiously.

"You need to watch where you're going!" the woman practically screamed at him before looking back down at the child in her arms and whispering words of comfort that couldn't be deciphered over the boy's shrieks of distress. Hope languidly reached out a hand as some gesture of assistance before he felt a hand clasp his shoulder. Hope turned his head to discover that Lightning had made her way to the scene, her eyes analyzing the situation in front of her.

"I'll handle this. _Clearly_ you've done enough," she stated curtly, but Hope could hear the carefully composed fury in her voice. Lightning slammed the sack containing Serah's pickles roughly against Hope's chest. Through his still ever-present daze, he slowly took the bag from her, wrapping his arms around to hold it against his chest. Somewhere in his depths of his dulled mind, he realized that he was going to be absolutely in for it in a matter of minutes…but for some reason he couldn't even find the strength to muster so much as a flinch.

Lightning kneeled down, leveling herself with the mother and child.

"Is your son injured?" she asked the frazzled woman, her voice taking on an "all business" tone. The woman jerked her head up towards Lightning with the obvious intention of berating at her as well. However, the fury quickly diluted from the mother's gaze and the words of malice slipped off her tongue. The pink-haired soldier had the innate ability of taking charge of any situation, her supremely commanding presence impossible to ignore.

The mother looked at her son once more, whose hysteria was finally beginning to wane. Hope wondered for a moment if he, too, was falling victim to Lightning's authoritative demeanor. Turning her head back to Lightning, the woman shook her head.

"I don't think so," she replied, her tone bordering on timid. Lightning dropped to one knee for a closer look. The young boy watched her intently with wide, puffy eyes as she visually checked for cuts and scrapes. When she determined that the child was indeed unharmed, she lifted herself to her feet before offering a hand of assistance to the woman. Giving a small nod of gratitude, the mother accepted the gesture with hand of the arm currently not cradling her son.

"I do apologize for this. I'm sure Hope didn't mean to upset your son," Somewhere in all of this, Hope had finally become aware of his actions. His face burned with shame, the sensation overpowering the dull pain of the cuts on his cheek and palms. He quickly grasped the handles of the sack of pickles that was still cradling in his arms and lowered it to rest at his side. Resisting the urge to simply stare at the ground like a coward, he looked back to the woman and her child.

"N-no. I didn't," he said with the utmost sincerity. "I-I…I'm really sorry." The mother turned her head slightly to look at him. The sheer fury was no longer lacing her features, but Hope could still detect a mild air of irritation in her eyes. She nodded curtly, an indication that she accepted his apology.

Before another word could be said by anyone, Lightning roughly grasped the crook of Hope's elbow and jerked him away from the crowd. Hope had no choice but to simply follow her lead. He chose not to bring any attention to the fact that Lightning's strong grip was causing the teen to feel a slight amount of pain beneath her fingers, and how their rapid pace was causing the sack of pickles to continuously collide against his shin. He knew that would only exacerbate his current predicament.

With the dejected Hope in tow, Lightning moved briskly through the market and towards Snow and Serah's house. Once again, they walked in silence...though this time, Hope observed, it was anything but pleasant. For ten solid minutes, Hope could do nothing but anticipate the scolding that was to come. He silently hoped that, if she was going to slap him, she would do so against the cheek that wasn't currently bleeding. Suddenly, Lightning lurched him out of his reverie by pushing him down to sit on a lone rock along the path. Hope knew the reason behind her actions: when Lightning Farron scolded him, it would be a frozen day in Ifrit's cavern before she would be forced to look up at him to do so.

For several minutes, Lightning simply stood there and glared at him, choosing to cross her arms tightly in front of her. Her expression was a blend of sheer disbelief and simple ire. Hope found himself fidgeting under her gaze, feeling like he was fourteen again. Other than his idle movements of apprehension, he didn't dare say anything or look anywhere other than directly into the path of her disapproving gaze. Finally, Lightning took pity on him and broke the painful silence

…so that she could utterly tear him a new one.

"Hope Vincent Estheim, _what_ in Cocoon's name was that all about?" she demanded, her arm swinging outward to point back in the direction of New Bodum. Hope shoulders slowly rose to his ears as he subconsciously attempted to defy the laws of physics and sink his body into the rock beneath him. Before Hope could even begin to answer, Lightning was on him again.

"Blatantly ignoring me? _Shoving _me to the side before taking off…only to run into a small, defenseless child? What the hell came over you?" Hope instantly felt like he had been struck by a high-speed train. His eyes widened and glossed over, Lightning's words bringing everything back to him.

The girl, her presence shining like a beacon amongst the faceless crowd. Her eyes locking with his. The look of surprise flashing across her features. His body racing to catch up with her as she walked away swiftly.

"I lost her," he said softly, looking away from Lightning's face to stare out into the open Pulsian fields as he became lost in his thoughts. Lightning would have none of it, proceeding to grip his shoulder for the second time to give him a single, firm shake.

"No. Not this nonsense again. What are you talking about? Who is this 'her'?" she asked forcefully. Hope said nothing, his face becoming more and more laden with panic. Lightning shook his shoulder again, but was met with no response. She quickly lowered herself to one knee, bringing her face level with his. Still he said nothing, appearing to look through the soldier. She grabbed his other shoulder urgently to shake the teen once more, and he finally focused his gaze on her face.

"Hope, answer me. Right now," she commanded, accentuating every individual word. Through her aggravation, Hope could see the clear twinge of concern in her gaze. Hope began to slowly shake his head from side to side. His mouth open and closed several times, but no words came out. He brought his hands up to grasp the sides of his head, pressing his fingers roughly into his scalp.

"No…no, no, no," he wailed, allowing his head to fall so his chin bumped against his chest. He sprang to his feet, the sudden nature of his actions forcing Lightning to spring back so as to not be knocked completely to the ground.

"I have to go back. I have to-" he rambled, but Lightning cut him off.

"No." she stated firmly, getting up to her feet. "We're going home. You need to clean that cut on your face so it doesn't leave a scar." Hope looked at her, his eyes absolutely wild, then jerked his head to the side to stare off towards the town. He repeated this action several times before closing his eyes and sighing in utter defeat. Looking back to Lightning, he nodded softly.

The anger was all but gone from Lightning's face. Returning his nod, she turned on her heel to continue on towards her sister's house. Hope was silently grateful that she chose not to press the issue further…or at least had chosen to delay her inquiries for a later time. Simply keeping up with the soldier required a substantial exertion of energy on his part. His body wanted nothing more that to collapse back on that rock to stare off the comforting emptiness of the surrounding valley for hours on end.

Hope was vaguely aware that they had reached the house. Lightning pressed a guiding hand between his shoulder blades, coaxing him up the front steps with a gentleness that was quite foreign to her. Opening the front door, she silently ushered him inside.

Snow and Serah were seated in the living room, laughing amongst themselves at a joke that the newly arrived pair had just missed. Their laughter stopped abruptly as they turned to look at Hope and Lightning and saw the teen's bloodied cheek. Serah let out a small gasp as she stood up quickly, her hands flying to her mouth. Snow was more languid with his actions, but his expression mirrored his wife's concern.

"Hope!" Serah cried out, darting out to meet them as Lightning guided Hope purposefully towards the couch. Serah's fretful tone managed to stir Hope slightly out of his daze, enough for him to sit down on the couch on his own accord. Serah instantly sat down next to Hope, delicately placing her hands on his arms to turn him towards her. Hope forced himself to give her a small smile, hoping to placate the fretful woman.

Once he was seated, Lightning walked briskly towards one of the room's many cabinets and proceeded to rummage through its contents.

"Sis, what's going on?" Snow asked, his forehead creased with worry. Serah repeatedly shifted the delicate placement of her hands to his arms, his shoulders, his uninjured cheek, and the top of his head. Hope instantly felt a calming effect from the soft touch of her fretful fingers, and he once again tried to smile at her. She returned the gesture this time, though her face was still radiating with distress.

"Work, huh?" Lightning deadpanned over her shoulder to Snow as she rummaged through one of the cabinets. She finally found the small, first-aid kit that she had been searching for. Turning around, the soldier gave the larger man a reproachful glance as she walked briskly towards Hope and Serah on the couch.

"It…was cancelled. PUL-PSI wanted to do some more preliminary observations—Lightning, do you mind telling me what happened?" Snow pressed, changing the subject back to Hope as he sat down on the adjacent coffee table. Lightning said nothing. She handed off the kit to her sister, relinquishing further action to Serah's higher level of medical expertise. Serah took the box from her sister with a quick nod. Opening the box, Serah quickly pulled out several cotton pads and a bottle of sterilizing solution.

"Lightning?" Snow asked again as Lightning walked over and stood next to him and in front of Hope.

"I don't really know," Lightning snapped, glaring at him with irritation before looking back at Hope. "I've been trying to figure that out myself. There we are at the market when all of a sudden he takes off. Ends up running into a child, knocking both of them over-"

"Hope…" Serah whispered in disbelief, looking up from dousing the pads in the sterile solution. Shock crossed Snow's face as well, and he turned to look at the injured teen.

Feeling all their gazes upon him, knowing that they were all waiting for an answer, Hope knew he couldn't sit in silence any longer. He slowly inhaled before letting out a loud sigh.

"I…I saw her. I still can't believe it." Hope relented, his words making sense to no one but himself. Lightning rolled her eyes and huffed in exasperation, but chose to say nothing.

"Who did you see, Hope?" Serah asked softly, bringing one of the soaked pads to Hope's face. The silver-haired teen involuntarily flinched from the painful sensation, a low hiss escaping his lips. Serah rubbed her hand against Hope's back in soothing circles, her expression apologetic as she continued to clean his cheek.

"The girl…my dreams, she…" he replied, before trailing off.

A few seconds of silence passed…and then the room was filled with the sound of Lightning's strangled groan of disbelief.

"_What_? You mean to tell me that you almost brought the New Bodum Market to a screeching halt because you saw a pretty girl?" Lightning bellowed. Snow threw his head back and barked out a laugh at the combined hilarity of Hope's declaration and his sister-in-law's infuriated reply. Even Serah couldn't help but chuckle softly as she continued to treat Hope's injuries.

Hope's jaw dropped as he realized how his words sounded. He looked over at Lightning, shaking his head in emphatic denial.

"N-no! I-"

"Never took you for the sheer romantic, Hope," Snow jeered through chuckles, a wide and impish grin stretched across his face. The gargantuan blond was desperately biting his lower lip to keep his already-minute level of control in check. Hope's frantic eyes darted from Lightning to the Snow, his face beginning to flush a bright shade of pink.

"That's not what I meant-" Hope began, but he was once again cut off.

"I had to swoop in an bail your ass out from that whole fiasco, caused by an influx of _hormones_?" Lightning demanded. Unable to contain himself any longer, Snow burst out laughing. His large hands flew to his sides for support. He hunched over at the waist onto his knees, howling. Serah faced an equal difficulty of controlling her small giggles while dabbing a scar-preventative ointment over the cut on his face.

"No!" Hope pressed emphatically, bristling with indignation. His face burned with embarrassment as Snow continued on with his condescending snickers, and Hope proceeded to scowl at the ground.

Impatient to hear Hope's explanation (and always looking for an excuse to lash out at her infuriating brother-in-law), Lightning struck the back of Snow's head with a powerful blow. Snow's deep laughter halted abruptly, and he let out a resentful "Ow!" Serah placed her hand on Snow's knee, lifting her gaze upward to give her sister a look of disapproval.

"Well?" Lightning demanded, bringing the focus of the discussion back to Hope. Exhaling to release the remnants of his irritation, Hope proceeded to clarify his previous statement.

"The girl that I saw…I've been seeing her in my dreams every night for the past six months," The three companions stilled almost instantaneously, taking in Hope's words. Lightning's eyebrows furrowed, her jaw dropping slightly from shock. Snow's eyes widened, all traces of humor completely wiped from his expression. Hope assumed Serah wore a similar expression of confusion, but he chose not to turn his eyes and look at her.

"Every night, it's the same dream…and every night I see her," Hope continued, looking down to intently watch Serah clean the scrapes on both his palms. He barely felt the sting of the rubbing alcohol through the ferocity of his raging nerves. Another powerful wave of silence swept through the room.

Finally, someone spoke up. Surprisingly, it was the younger Farron seated at his side.

"What happens in this dream, Hope?" she inquired, her tone soft and gentle. Hope inhaled deeply, his tense throat causing the air to rattle against his windpipe.

"We….I see her there, standing on one of the cliffs near the shell of Cocoon. She…she touches a piece of the Crystal Column…and…" he paused to collect himself, continuing to stare down at his hands.

"She…brings them out of crystal stasis," he says in a voice barely above a whisper. Once again, he was met by nothing but silence. Mustering up enough courage, he turned his head up to lock eyes with his pink-haired mentor.

Lightning looked back at the young teen, her eyes shining with sadness…but most of all pity.

A wave of incensed fury flared deep within him.

"Hope, listen to me-"

"Don't!" he ground out through clenched teeth, his tone furious. He met Lightning's infuriatingly sympathetic gaze with an infuriated glare. Her expression did not falter in spite of his obvious ire. Unable to bear any more of her ridiculing compunction, Hope tore his gaze from her and looked over to Snow. The larger man had his gaze fixated on the floor, his expression pained.

It was almost worse than the pity.

"Hope," Lightning continued, "Fang and Vanille…in all likelihood, they're not coming back in our lifetime." Snow's eyes slowly closed, and he inhaled sharply. Hope's revelation had brought awareness to a dark cloud that ever loomed over the heads of the former l'Cie: the discussion of the two Pulsian women who sacrificed their freedom to save their companions' lives and those of Cocoon.

Unable to continue looking at the normally-jovial Snow, now wracked with sorrow called out from him upon remembering their crystalized friends, Hope brought his furious gaze back to his hands.

"Don't you think I know how crazy this sounds?" he demanded to no one in particular, his voice cracking with the suppression of the tears that his pride refused to let fall. "Don't you think I get that? I do, believe me. I've had months to reflect on how absolutely insane it all is."

"Hope…no _human_, and in all likelihood no l'Cie, has the power to awaken someone from crystal stasis-"

"No, I don't believe that," Hope stated with absolute certainty. He stood up from the couch, taking the time to look at each of them individually. "I know that she can bring them back. I can _feel _it. You don't have to believe it. You can go ahead and think whatever you want…but _I_ know that she can save them."

And with that, a third and final silence settled among them.


	4. A Long Fated Encounter

_****__I_ don't own the rights to the plot or any of the characters from Final Fantasy XIII. The only thing that one could say I technically own the rights to is my original character.

**And here it is: The awaited encounter with the Hope's mysterious girl. Yes, I finally reveal her name in this chapter. I've dragged the suspense out long enough, readers!**

**I'll try my hardest to keep my reviews regular through the summer...but I don't want to make any promises since I completely obliterated the last time frame declaration that I set up for myself. Maybe it's better if I keep such things with an air of ambiguity. **

* * *

**Chapter 4: A Long-Fated Encounter**

For the next two weeks, Hope went into the city every morning look for _her_. Without fail, he would arrive at dawn, when the first of the town's shops would open their doors for the day's business, and leave just before twilight. When the next week's Farmer's Market came and went, Hope was disappointed but refused to lose faith and give way to depths of pessimism. He diligently continued to make the journey into town, spending the entire day watching the very spot where he first saw her.

"_Hope, this is nonsense," Lightning had said three days ago, showing up at the house early enough to catch him on his way out to New Bodum. "You've fallen behind in your training to chase after what could be just a phantom of your imagination."_

_Hope hadn't said anything in response. His eyes and jaw set with determination, he brushed past her towards the front door. His right hand grasping the handle, he had just begun to turn the knob when Lightning tried once more to speak reason._

"_Hope," Lightning said, her voice softening with deep concern for him, "she could be dangerous. If she truly has all of this impossible power at her disposal, you have no idea what she could be capable of. She could _kill_ you."_

_Hope had turned his head slightly, but again he said nothing. Releasing an apologetic sigh for his mentor and friend, he had continued out the door._

It was a quiet Tuesday, and Hope was seated at the now-familiar outdoor patio of Junon's Coffee Shop. Despite the languid sips he routinely took of his cappuccino, je kept his gaze alert. He had memorized that spot by now where she had stood what now seemed like an eternity ago, becoming as familiar with the surrounding area as he was with back of his own hand.

Suddenly, the smallest of movements from the shadows of a nearby abandoned alley caught his eye. A wave of hopeful excitement pulsed beneath his skin, but suddenly he recalled his training with Lightning.

"_Never lose your concentration," she had said. "The second that you give away your intentions of pursuit, you've lost the advantage and are now going head-to-head with an opponent who could potentially exceed your limits in strength and speed."_

With all the control he could muster, he casually turned his head to the side. He pretended to look at a nearby group of individuals perusing the local shops. After a few moments had passed, he glanced towards the alley, and he was sure his heart had skipped a beat and his brain had ceased to function.

She was there.

And she was watching him.

Forgetting all of Lightning's lessons of self-control, Hope sprang to his feet, a movement that instantly had her whirling around and retreating in the opposite direction. In a case of sheer fortune, the street was unusually empty, allowing for the silver-haired teen to race off in the girl's direction without having to worry about the possibility of a historical repetition of his previous blunder at the Market.

She was fast, impressively so, but Hope's training with Lightning had rendered him quick on his feet. She darted into adjacent alleys and in between fences, all the while Hope right on her trail. His pursuit led him to the Eastern borders of the city, and into a lush forest. The citizens of New Bodum, if he could recall, had named it the "Troian Forest" in honor of the legendary ancient, matriarchal kingdom from the early days of Pulse.

Hope continued to pursue the mysterious girl, continuously becoming more and more aware of the need to act in stealth. But the rapid and sudden changes in elevation began to evolve into a formidable obstacle as he sprinted onward. To make matters worse, fatigue was beginning to rear its ugly head. Feeling an odd sense of déjà-vu to his haunting dreams, Hope pressed onward through the pain and exhaustion. He couldn't let her slip away, not again.

As he sprinted further into the forest, the dampened soil within presented him with the most magnificent of gifts: foot prints. Slowing his pace ever so slightly, he crouched down and began to follow their path. So overcome with joy, Hope had failed to notice the abrupt loss of crunching leaves that the girl had been leaving in her wake.

When the tracks unceremoniously disappeared, Hope dug his heels into the wet soil and screeched to a halt. He observed the nearby ground and saw no reasonable explanation for such an event.

"_Please don't tell me she can also disappear into thin air," _Hope silently pleaded. However, it would have made no sense for her to suddenly reveal this power after so long of a chase, right?

The sudden noise of something colliding with the earth came from just behind Hope. Before he could turn his head to investigate, a hand roughly grasped his hair and jerked his head backwards. Before Hope could so much as yelp from the painful sensation, something cold and sharp pressed against his neck and silenced his cry. Looking down, his eyes widened and his heart raced as he closed in the large hunting knife resting against the skin of his neck.

Hope swallowed thickly, the action pressing his throat further into the blade to the point of almost breaking the delicate skin. Instinctively, he raised his arms in a gesture of surrender.

"On your knees," a sharp voice commanded, putting a downward pressure in the hand against his scalp. His heart accelerated even more at the sound. Even when charged with a tone of cold malice and anger, Hope would have recognized that voice anywhere.

It was _her_.

His moment of hesitance drove the girl to increase the pressure of the blade against his neck to drive home the severity of her order. The action finally proved enough to cut into a small portion of Hope's neck. He gave a sharp hiss in pain, but did not further delay sinking his knees down onto the dampened soil.

The girl stepped out from behind him, looking down at Hope with a calculating gaze. His fear and apprehension all but instantaneously vanished and his face once again morphed into a look of pure, unabashed astonishment.

He took in every detail of her appearance with a type of greedy desperation. She wore a white tank top that ended just above her hipbones, giving a small glimpse of her stomach. Black cargo pants rested roughly an inch below the bottom hem of her shirt, cutting off a few inches below her knees. She wore black, athletic boots, the kind built for long treks across the vast Pulsian wilderness.

A two-inch leather strap stretched diagonally across her front starting at the crook of her neck near her right shoulder and ending at the left curve of her waist. Poking out from behind her right shoulder was the top of what appeared to be a matted black crossbow (which would explain the quiver of gray arrows attached to the brown belt she wore). There were also several leather sheaths positioned at various locations on her body. The one used to house the butcher knife currently clutched in her hand was attached to one of her belt loops. Hope noticed a smaller one sitting just above her shin, the leather strap wrapping around the bend of her knee. It was obvious to him that this girl was quite prepared for a wide variety of offensive attacks and threats.

The girl's face was a mask of cold indifference, but Hope could see another emotion shining faintly in her eyes. For some reason unknown to Hope, it seemed as though the girl was also quite surprised to see him.

"You're following me," she stated, breaking the silence. She continued to hold the hunting knife close to his neck, not allowing her apparent disconcerted state to waiver her concentration. Her silver eyes were unforgiving, silently challenging him to deny her words. From somewhere in the more sarcastic realms of his mind, Hope heard Lightning's voice telling him that he could learn a thing or two from this girl. He swallowed thickly and slowly parted his lips to speak.

"Y-yes," he stammered. The girl's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and she pursed her lips into a tight line. Her hand gripped the dagger's hilt more tightly.

"Why?" she drawled. Hope opened and closed his mouth several times, each time the words escaping him. How could he possibly explain to her without sounding like someone who was completely off their damn rocker? Or...without having this scenario end with that menacing blade being lodged into his throat?

"You…you'll think I'm crazy," he breathed out.

"Better crazy than dead, hmm?" she replied flatly. Hope gave the slightest of nods, fearing any additional movement would drive the blade deeper into his neck and open the already-existing wound more fully.

"R-right," he stammered. His eyes once again fell to the hunting knife, the shining blade reflecting the bright rays of the sun directly into his eyes. He looked back up at up at her, his expression voicing silent request that his speech failed to give. Exhaling sharply, the girl pulled the blade away from his neck. Before Hope could so much as sigh, however, she had repositioned the blade so that its sharp tip rested near millimeters away from his chest. Directly above his heart.

"Try anything and this goes straight through your ribcage. You'll die just as quickly this way, I can assure you. Now, start talking," she demanded. Hope was unsure of where to start. Formalities seemed superfluous at a time like this, but his shock-induced brain refused to give him anything else to go with.

"Uh…my-my name is-" Hope began.

"I know who you are," she sharply cut him off. Hope furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side.

"You know who I am?" he parroted. For the most fleeting of moments, the girl's stern expression fell completely and she stared at him blankly. She shut her eyes for a moment, squeezing them tightly, before quickly shaking her head. Her eyes opened, and the severe glare returned.

"Your father is Bartholomew Estheim, is he not? Governor of District 4?" she inquired, though it sounded more like a statement than a legitimate question. Hope nodded slowly, still quite aware that the girl was holding a knife in a lethal position over one of his most important of vital organs. Before he could speak, the girl continued.

"He's in the papers a lot. Sometimes they publish pictures of you as well. Also, weren't you one of those six l'Cie wreaking havoc on Cocoon in the days before The Fall?" Hope flinched involuntarily at her words. He began to fear that she was one of those individuals who loathed the former l'Cie for knocking Cocoon from its former glory amongst the heavens. For a moment, he wondered if she was going to kill him just for that reason alone. Maybe Lightning was right after all.

Whether or not she noticed Hope's body tense with distress, she broke the silence for a third time and spoke again.

"Whatever, it doesn't really matter anyway. Wasn't your fault that some deranged falC'ie decided to turn you and those others into slaves," she mused with a shrug.

"Are you…a l'Cie?" he blurted out. The girl furrowed her brows.

"What, just because I have a little empathy for your past predicament automatically means that I'm in the same boat?" she clipped out. Hope immediately regretted his decision to ask her. His eyes widened in alarm, and he shook his head. The motion proved to be another mistake, as he felt the cut on his neck stretch open from the exertion of his skin. He winced slightly as he felt the small drops of blood ooze out from the wound. Lowering her eyes to the injury, Hope noticed a look of apology flicker across her face before she raised her gaze back to his eyes.

"Enough with the small talk. Answer me: _what_ are you doing following me?" the girl barked out. Hope stammered slightly, still not knowing how he was going to explain all of this to her.

"_Well, here goes nothing. Lightning, I sure hope you were wrong about that whole her-killing-me theory,"_ he mentally resigned. Taking a deep breath, he began the only way he knew how: with the honest truth.

"I've seen you…in my dreams," he said slowly, intently watching her face. Following her pattern of the most ephemeral of expressions, the girl looked positively stunned for a brief, shining moment. Her jaw slacked and fell open, her eyes almost comically widened.

Almost…because she was still pointing a deadly blade directly in front of his heart. That significantly diluted any amusement the situation had to offer.

The expression disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Her eyes narrowed once more, but her eyes still rang with a shining light of panic. He took her silence as an indication that he should continue forward with his already-botched explanation.

"It's been the same dream for months now, and you're always there. Don't ask me if I'm positive about that aspect, I _know_ it's you. For awhile, I didn't even think you were real, but when I saw you at the market two weeks ago…like I said, I-I just _knew_ it was you. I tried to approach you, but I…uh, I tripped, and when I got back up you were gone. I've been coming into town every day ever since, hoping to see you again. And today, there you were. I'm really sorry if I startled you, but I just had to follow you. You've got to understand me, you've got to believe me!" hearing the desperation fueling his words and leading toward the point of madness Hope stopped himself to pause. Slowly, he released the remaining air in his lungs with a shaky breath before inhaling to begin anew.

"I…I need your help. I know you can help me. You…you can…I just know it…I…" Hope tried to continue, but he couldn't find the words. He slowly lifted his gaze back up to the girl. There was nothing fleeting about her expression anymore: the look that garnished her face was now one of pure bewilderment. The arm holding the blade to his chest lowered a few degrees. Shaking her head vigorously again to clear the expression, she turned back to him and gave him a no-nonsense stare.

"Okay…I've come up with only two possibilities: One, you're absolutely, textbook insane. Two, it's quite possible that you suffered a recent head injury, and it's causing you to suffer from hallucinations," she declared, speaking slowly and clearly as if she were addressing a three-year-old child. Hope gave an exasperated sigh and moved to stand up, his eyes flashing with aggravation.

"I'm _not_ delusional-" but his rant was cut off almost as soon as it began. The motion had driven the girl to once again raise the blade to his heart, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I did _not_ say you could move!" she snapped at him, her lips curling into a snarl. Hope felt his survival instincts kick in and he froze his movements.

"Okay, okay, okay," Hope relented, raising his hands once again in a surrendering fashion. However, the apology was too little, too late. The girl was apparently done listening to him.

"Listen. I don't know who you think I am or how I'm capable of helping you, but you're wrong. I'm not who you're looking for, and I can't help you. So do yourself a favor and just forget about me." Hope began to panic, shaking his head frantically as he began to stammer incoherently.

"_Forget _you ever saw me," she emphasized as she noticed Hope's attempts at cutting her off with a rebuttal. "Okay? Just forget it." Finally, she lowered her weapon into its sheath before turning around to begin her retreat. Hope's entire being was frantic. He had to do something; he couldn't just let her walk away.

"Wait!" he called. To his surprise, she paused. Somewhere in the depths of his frenetic mind, he knew he wouldn't convince her to stay and talk to him. He resigned to the fact that she was going to leave him, but he couldn't let her leave just yet…not before…

"At least tell me your name," he beseeched with the utmost desperation. She turned her head slowly to the side, giving him a profile view of a contemplative expression slightly shadowed behind cherry-colored hair. Her sterling eyes were downcast as she internally deliberated her course of action.

"Please. I just…I need to know," Hope whispered, his eyes silently pleading with her. The girl sighed, pulling her lower lip in to rest between her teeth.

Then, fueled by what could only be the divine mercy of the ancient Goddess Etro herself, the girl answered his plea.

"Layla," she said quietly. "Layla Harvey."

And with that, she walked briskly onward and disappeared into the multitude of trees.


End file.
